Anonymity
by indiegal
Summary: Slash. On shore leave, Trip and Malcolm both went for some fun in bars, but how anonymous was it really? Alcohol also seems to insinuate itself into every chapter - next chapter up now.
1. Chapter 1

Anonymity – Chapter One

Rating: PG-13 here, R in later chapters though

Disclaimer: Paramount own these lovely lads and lasses, unfortunately. If I were getting any money from this, which I'm not, I'd buy Trip and Malcolm for myself. Pity.

Summary: On shore leave, Trip and Malcolm both go for some anonymous fun in bars.

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"Fantastic idea Cap'n – we could all do with a break!" 

"It has been a while, sir" added Hoshi, looking at Trip while registering her agreement with him. The others merely nodded their assent.

"Well that's settled then. Three days shore leave, only skeleton crews on board. I expect everyone, and that means _everyone_," he added, looking at T'Pol, "to take some time off. I'll make a ship wide announcement after lunch. Dismissed."

The senior staff filed out of the situation room and went their separate ways, nodding to each other as they left. Trip found himself heading towards a turbolift with Malcolm.

"Going for lunch?" Malcolm asked as they both requested the same deck.

"Care to join me?" Trip asked in reply.

"No, thank you Commander, I'm just going to grab a quick bite before doing some more research on Tandax Prime." Trip looked sideways at him.

"Trying to find the best spots to check out those fine Tandaxian females?" he quipped. Malcolm looked strangely at him.

"Something like that," he replied with a half smile, before stepping out of the lift and walking ahead of Trip into the mess hall. Trip groaned inwardly. The man could undo him with just a look, and that last half smile had been enough to ensure him a very uncomfortable situation indeed. He decided to skip lunch for the moment and head to his quarters for a shower and some research of his own. Though, he added to himself, it certainly wasn't going to be anything to do with Tandaxian _females_.

That had been close, thought Malcolm as he grabbed his sandwich and headed back off towards his quarters. Far too close for comfort - the last thing he needed right now was for Trip to discover his fondness for males - or for one sandy-haired male in particular - and spoil his shore leave for him. He was planning on indulging in some anonymous enjoyment of the local culture to forget said aforementioned male. He was just settling down in front of his console to sort through the data sent in by the ambassador to find a suitable location for his evening's entertainment when the door chime went. He sighed, leaning back in his chair and resigning himself to the interruption.

"Come in!" he called. The door slid open and Travis entered. Malcolm rose and moved around to the front of his desk.

"Travis," he acknowledged, "what can I do for you?"

"Oh, nothing important, sir. It's just that Hoshi and myself were planning on doing the rounds of a few bars tonight and we wondered if you'd like to join us." Malcolm considered his reply.

"Well, that's very nice of you Travis, but I've already made my own plans for this evening. Maybe another time?" The ensign nodded and made his way to the door.

"Hope you have a good time then. Maybe you'll bump into Commander Tucker." Malcolm was confused.

"Travis?"

"Well, he said exactly the same thing when we asked him. Funny." Travis shrugged. "See you then, sir," he added, exiting Malcolm's quarters and leaving him alone again. Malcolm stayed where he was for a second, then muttered with a smile as he returned to his desk and settled back into his research,

"Probably after those fine Tandaxian females he was talking about."

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Sorry this is so short – please review! Next part up shortly! 


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

Anonymity - Chapter 2

Rating: R  
Disclaimer: See first chapter - I don't own anything.

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The bar was dark, unlit except for the swirling colours lighting up the dancefloor on the other side of the room and the lights behind the bar. It was also warm, smoky, loud and very anonymous. Perfect, thought Trip, as he let his eyes adjust and realised that he could see very little other than dark silhouettes. Absolutely perfect.

He made his way over to the bar and ordered one of the exotic cocktails that were, according to his data on this place, "the finest this side of the galaxy". Turning round in his seat and taking a sip from the brightly coloured straw, he had to agree. This thing sure had a kick – he'd have no trouble getting drunk tonight! He had a good view from his position on the bar stool – he could see the entrance and the dancefloor in his peripheral vision, as well as most of the tables that littered the venue. It seemed other people had had the same idea as he had – there were several odd-looking couples near to him indulging in varying levels of "anonymous activities". Trip chuckled to himself as he took one last slurp from his straw. Drink finished and feeling pleasantly light-headed, he placed the empty glass on the bar and headed off into the crowds on the dancefloor. 

* * *

He couldn't help it. Although Malcolm knew there were no rules against officers going to alien gay bars on shore leave, he still felt as if he were doing something wrong. That, and his desire to remain in the closet, were the main reasons he had hung around on this beach for so long after he had seen Trip heading the way he was going. He had no desire to be seen by anyone, least of all the man he fancied like crazy, going into a gay bar, especially as Trip would probably then put two and two together and realise Malcolm feelings for him were considerably more than friendly. Which was why, half an hour after the shuttle had landed, Malcolm was still to be found loitering suspiciously by the beach, in full view of any crew member who might walk past. It was this thought that eventually made up his mind for him, and made him move off towards his destination.

As soon as he stepped through the tinted glass doors of the bar, he knew that he had come to the right place. It was smoky, noisy, and, best of all, very dark. He could come nose to nose with the captain in here and wouldn't realise. Though, he thought, looking at the activities of some of the silhouettes vaguely discernable on the dancefloor, maybe that wasn't such a good thing. Stepping up to the bar, he ordered some Dutch courage to help him through the evening. And bloody good it was too, as the felt the burning in the back of his throat. Still, he ordered another, just to be on the safe side, before sliding off his stool and heading towards the mass of dancers. 

* * *

Trip had discovered the best thing about this place yet, he realised. Servers moved through the crowds on the dancefloor, glowing faintly so as to be recognisable, with a seemingly unlimited supply of drinks. Trip had lost count of how many he had had now, and had given himself up completely to the dancing. However, he was less pleased about the lack of single males on the floor. All the normal sized ones – for that was about all he could tell about his fellow dancers in this light – seemed to be taken. And nobody seemed to want to go for a Trip-sized dancer.

Just as he was about to give up for the moment and go back to the bar for a breather, he caught sight of a promising-looking single man. He was faintly illuminated in the glow of the waiter he was getting a drink from, and Trip could just about make out dark hair, a tight shirt and _very_ tight trousers made of some shiny material. He was about Trip's height, and as the waiter moved off, Trip moved forwards. Taking a deep breath, he placed one hand on the other man's hip, catching him by surprise. The man jumped and turned around, seeming to look Trip up and down while he took a swig of his drink. Next thing Trip knew, there was a strong arm around his waist and the two were dancing. 

* * *

Malcolm had nearly had a heart attack when he had felt a hand on his hip just after buying a drink from a glowing but not completely unattractive waiter. However, after turning round and contenting himself that the stranger was too short to be Captain Archer (at some point during the evening this had become a real worry for him) he had accepted that dancing with him could be fun. And dancing was what they had been doing for the last... Malcolm didn't have a clue.

What he did suddenly realise was that he had finished his drink a long time ago, and for some reason was still holding the empty bottle. He dropped it on the floor and moved his hand to his partner's behind instead. The man gave a quick start, but then pulled Malcolm closer so that their two bodies were touching. He felt a surge of pleasure run through his body, and looked up from their joined hips to find his face centimetres from his partner's. Without another thought, he closed the gap between them, kissing him with an intensity matched only by the other man's. When Malcolm felt a tongue floating lightly over his lips, he opened his mouth and responded in kind, letting his partner draw a moan out of him. He felt, rather than heard, the same response coming from the mouth on his. Running his hands over the skin on the other man's chest, he felt him latch onto his neck and cried out with pleasure and pain.

* * *

Trip couldn't think. Every part of his body was over-sensitized so that even the lightest touch turned him on even more. The man in his arms smelt and tasted so good he couldn't let go for even one second. He could tell that his partner was as aroused as he was, and was using every ounce of willpower he had not to suggest a hotel room nearby. He knew, though, that this would spoil the anonymity of the encounter and was determined not to let that happen. This way, when he relived the encounter, he could imagine Malcolm's face where there was none at the moment.

The thought of Malcolm turned him on even more, especially when he thought of how deliciously illicit it was to be fantasizing about his colleague and friend while rubbing himself up against this man. It made him reckless, and he unzipped the fly on his partner's trousers, delighting in the gasp against his cheek as he made contact with hot, bare skin.

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Please review! I tried to make this a bit longer than last chapter - hope it was better =) 


	3. Chapter 3

Anonymity – Chapter 3

Rating: PG-13 in this chapter  
Disclaimer: See chapter one  
Summary: The morning after the night before.

NB: Please suspend your disbelief in this story – Malcolm's not aquaphobic! Not really important but if I didn't mention it I'd have nitpickers (like myself) commenting.

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Malcolm woke up slowly, realising with a sinking feeling in his stomach that the grogginess he was currently experiencing would undoubtedly turn into a splitting headache as soon as he moved properly. And it was too bright. He turned his head to the side to try to get the light out of his eyes, but it followed him. He groaned and rolled over to the other side. It did the same. Then he heard something else that sounded suspiciously like stifled giggling. He opened his eyes with a snap.

Trip was standing over him, shining a beacon right into his eyes, with a grin on his face. Hoshi and Travis were also there – on seeing his eyes open they gave up trying to stifle their giggles and laughed out loud.

"Mornin' lieutenant!" grinned Trip. Malcolm rolled over and tried to hide his head in the covers. How the hell had they got in? Still, at least he was in his own bed. How had he got there again?

"Oh no, you don't, sir!" He heard Travis' voice approach and before he knew it, the cover had been pulled down to waist level. Resigning himself, he sat up, thanking the lord that he'd at least managed to get some pyjama trousers on last night.

"And what is the reason for this untimely awakening, may I ask?" he growled, trying to adjust to the light. Jesus, his voice sounded terrible, he realised, desperately hoping the others would put it down to the early morning and the hangover.

"Untimely?" chuckled Trip. "It's 10.30 – you were supposed to meet us a quarter of an hour ago to go to the beach!" Realisation flooded through Malcolm's mind. Hurriedly he jumped out of bed, wincing at the headache.

"Just meet us in the shuttlebay asap," Trip said, his grin extending. "Oh, and..." he put some pills down on the table, "Work wonders those do." With a final wink, he followed the others out of the door.

* * *

This was definitely the life, thought Trip, lying in the sun on the beach. It was a wonder they'd got there at all, after having to drag Malcolm out of bed and then having to fix the problems in their shuttle before they could take off. But, he added mentally, it was definitely worth it for this weather. He had passed this beach last night on his way to the bar and thought how nice it had looked – he was glad they'd got here. And thinking of nice-looking things, the sight of Malcolm this morning, topless, all ruffled from sleep, had been very nice indeed. He'd had a hard time keeping up the façade of cheery amused friend, especially after the events of last night. Trip let a smile cross his face slowly, then thought about going for a swim, just as a shadow crossed his face. He opened one eye slowly. Crap.

"Anyone up for a swim?" Malcolm asked as he dripped onto Trip. "It's no fun on my own." Trip stretched.

"Yeah, I'll come," he replied, getting up. "I'm wet enough already," he added, mock-glaring at Malcolm, who didn't look in the least bit repentant. "Hoshi?"

"I'm gonna wait here til Travis gets back with the drinks," the young woman replied without opening her eyes. "You two go ahead." Trip shrugged and looked back to Malcolm.

"Shall we?" Malcolm paused for a second, then smiled.

"Race you," he lanced, before setting off at a sprint, Trip hot on his heels.

After a while, the sea got a little too cold and wet, so the two men made their way back up the beach to dry off with the others. Malcolm settled down on his towel, taking a drink offered to him by Travis as Trip shook like a dog, soaking Hoshi and receiving an earful in return. Malcolm smiled to himself and lay on his back to soak up the sun. All too soon, though, he was interrupted by Hoshi's voice.

"Malcolm?"

"Mmmm?" was the only reply he could be bothered to make.

"I've been meaning to ask," she said, innocence dripping from her voice to the extent it made Malcolm suspicious. He opened one eye to glare at her. "What's that?" She pointed towards Malcolm's hipbone. He looked down. A very obvious love-bite was not quite low enough to be covered by his swimming shorts. Fully awake now, he flipped over onto his front to cover it, glaring at Hoshi, who was giggling, and at Travis and Trip who were trying hard not to do the same.

"I'll thank you to mind your own business, Ensign," he growled at her. Far from the intended effect, this only made her laugh more and prompted Travis to join in too.

"Subtle Malcolm, real subtle," Trip chuckled, winking. Malcolm groaned and hid his head in his towel.

A little while later, thanks to Travis's drinks, everyone had loosened up a little more, and Trip had to admit he was curious. He decided to try broaching the subject again.

"So, Malcolm," he started, "Where did you get it?" Malcolm glared. Trip decided to try a new tactic. "I'll show you mine if you tell me where yours is from!"

Hoshi snorted and sprayed her drink across herself in shock. Once the laughter had subsided and she had cleaned herself up a bit, Trip repeated his offer.

"Well?" he asked, winking at Malcolm. There was a pause. Malcolm took a deep breath.

"It was... in a bar last night. I... met someone there." His shy admission was met by whoops.

"Nice one, sir! Now I know why you didn't come out with us last night!" Travis laughed, not fazed by the glare he got from Malcolm. Instead, he continued in the same vein. "Your turn now, Commander," he grinned.

With a wink at Travis, Trip peeled down the top of his shorts as far as they would go without exposing him, revealing a mark matching Malcolm's.

"Nice," approved Hoshi.

"Where's yours from then?" asked Malcolm, curiosity tingeing his voice. Score, thought Trip.

"Same as you – met someone in a bar last night," he replied. "Fantastic place – great drinks," he added.

"I'll bet it wasn't as good as mine," teased Malcolm. "Mine had glowing waiters." Trip frowned.

"So did mine – maybe it's a local thing."

"There weren't any where we were," offered Travis helpfully. "Maybe you did end up in the same place as each other after all!" Trip frowned again. Did they?

"Maybe," he muttered. Then he raised his voice to address Malcolm, "Hey Malcolm, this bar you were in wasn't... specialist in any way was it?" Ignoring the confused looks of the two ensigns, he tried again when he realised Malcolm hadn't heard him.

"Malcolm!" Confused eyes looked up to meet his.

"Huh?" Trip decided to take a chance.

"You weren't in Bar Koqzutal, were you?" From the look of shock on Malcolm's face, he guessed he'd been right. Well, whaddya know? he thought. He turns out to be a man-fan after all! It was only then he noticed the blood had drained from Malcolm's face, and he was packing up his bag.

"Excuse me," he said hoarsely, nodding to the others and starting to move away down the beach. Trip called after him.

"Hey, Malcolm! Where are you going?" Malcolm didn't look back, and speeded up his walking. With a look at the others, Trip ran after him and quickly caught him up. Resigning himself, Malcolm stopped, but didn't look back at him.

"What's the matter?" Malcolm spun round to face him, bitterness evident in his voice.

"What's the matter? You may not have a problem with everybody knowing your business, Commander, but I prefer to keep some things to myself. And _that_ was something I would rather not have had the whole crew know." The spite had faded out of his voice, and now he just looked weary. Trip tried to remedy the situation.

"Shit Malcolm, I'm sorry. I didn't realise. I mean, what were the chances that we were in the same bar?" No reply. "Besides," he added, trying to improve the atmosphere, "We're both in the same boat now. If they even bother to look that place up." The scathing look on Malcolm's face said it all – if they hadn't already guessed, they were bound to be curious enough to look it up. Underneath it all, Trip knew that was true. Malcolm plopped down onto the sand, looking out at the sea.

"Face it Trip - we're fucked." Trip sat down next to him, shocked at the tone in Malcolm's voice.

"No, we're not," he said coaxingly. "Ok, so maybe people will see us slightly differently but we're still the same people they knew before. This isn't the middle-ages – they'll accept us." Malcolm was silent. After a while, he half-smiled and looked across at him.

"So, you had fun last night then?" 

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Please review! Thanks =) 


	4. Chapter 4

Anonymity - Chapter 4

Rating: PG-13 in this chapter  
Disclaimer: See chapter one

* * *

Malcolm was a pessimist, Trip decided. In the time that had passed since they had accidentally outed themselves - or rather, Trip corrected himself, since he had outed the two of them - nothing had changed. In fact, he wasn't even sure if Travis and Hoshi had looked up the bar that both himself and Malcolm had visited on that evening of shore leave and thus discovered their secret. What had changed, though, was that Malcolm and Trip had become firm friends, and were now often to be found after-hours in either man's quarters, enjoying a drink and each other's company. Trip was on his way right now to Malcolm's quarters, and he had to admit that it was possible that he wasn't entirely sober, having come straight from dinner with T'Pol and the captain where the wine was flowing rather more copiously than usual. Arriving at Malcolm's quarters, he pressed the chime and was admitted by a ruffled-looking Malcolm Reed with a towel round his shoulders.

"Hey, gorgeous!" Trip greeted him enthusiastically, kissing him on the cheek as he walked through the door. "Just out the shower? I shoulda dropped by earlier!" He added with a lecherous wink.

"Trip, are you drunk?" Malcolm was looking at him with an expression halfway between incredulous and amused. "You go to dinner with the captain and T'Pol and come back drunk?" Trip looked apologetic.

"It's possible I might be just slightly… inebriated," he grimaced, attempting to sit down and only just hitting the sofa. "Sorry." Malcolm grinned.

"I'll just have to catch up then, won't I?" he said, picking up two shot glasses and a bottle of amber liquid and carrying them over to the sofa. While Trip watched, he poured and downed four shots in quick succession.

"Not quite sure what that stuff is, but it sure as hell is potent!" he croaked, shaking his head. "Now… Mr Tucker, can I offer you a drink?"

* * *

A short while later, both men were sprawled across the sofa and more than "just slightly inebriated", although the shots were still being downed thick and fast. The conversation had turned to relationships.

"So now I know why all those relationships with women never quite worked out for you, huh Trip?" drawled Malcolm lazily, earning a kick from Trip. He protested mildly before aiming a feeble kick back in Trip's direction, missing by a long way and almost breaking a glass which Trip promptly refilled and emptied just as fast. After a moment of silence, Trip sat up and looked at Malcolm.

"You never did tell me who gave you that thing," he accused. It took Malcolm a minute to work out he was talking about, before half sitting up as well.

"I told you about as much as I know," he answered. "You know how dark it was in there. I've no idea what he looked like. Although," he added pensively, "I think he might have been blond."

"You like blondes, huh?" quipped Trip. Malcolm looked sideways at him.

"Sure," he replied warily, pouring them both another shot. "What about you? Any idea what yours looked like?" Trip downed his drink before answering.

"Dark, mighta been a brunette. Tight trousers. Nice ass." He poured again.

"You like nice asses, huh?" Malcolm mimicked. Trip shrugged and leaned back.

"Who doesn't?" After a pause, he added, "Yours is pretty nice." Malcolm eyed him warily for a minute before smirking.

"Likewise," he responded.

"Aww, Malcolm, you're teasing me now," Trip pouted.

"You started it!" protested Malcolm.

"Did not."

"Did too."

"Not."

Malcolm paused.

"Trip?" Fuzzy blue eyes looked up from under blond hair.

"Huh?"

"Shut up." Malcolm forestalled the predicted pout by handing Trip another drink.

"You're no fun, Malcolm," he muttered, downing his shot.

"I can be fun!" was the outraged reply.

"Oh yeah?" Trip leaned in closer. "Prove it!" he challenged, a wicked glint in his eye. However, even though the small part of Malcolm's mind still unaffected by the alcohol was telling him that this was not a good idea, it was drowned out by the much larger, much drunker part. He leaned in to meet Trip's eyes.

"You're on." Trip held out his hand for Malcolm to shake, and when he had done sat back, a satisfied grin on his face.

"Good. Now…" he mused, the grin getting wider and wickeder. "What can I think of for you to do?" Malcolm started to see the stupidity of agreeing to this. "Aha!" The grin was now impossibly wide, and as Trip leant in, he could see there was an evil glint in Trip's eye that he didn't like at all. "I know! Malcolm Reed…" Malcolm waited, "You are going to make out with me in the mess hall!" Trip sat back again, looking pleased with himself. Malcolm was in shock.

"What? I… No! Not in the mess hall! Absolutely not!" Getting up, he looked down at Trip from above. "Are you insane?" Trip got up to join him.

"Come on, Malcolm, it'll be fun! I'll never call you boring again! Besides, you shook on it!" Malcolm was in a quandary, knowing that he had shaken on it and that he wanted to do it anyway, but…. in the mess hall? In front of everyone? He poured another drink and downed it quickly.

"Alright," he said decisively, slamming his glass down on the table. "I'll do it." Again, the sober bit of his mind was screaming "No!" at him, but again he chose to ignore it. Trip looked at him in surprise.

"Right," he said, and Malcolm was amused to see he seemed less confident than he had done before. "Let's just have another couple of drinks first." Malcolm nodded his assent, and between them, they downed the final quarter of the bottle.

"Whoa!" giggled Trip, as the stuff seemed to go instantly to his head. "Shall we go then?" The two men stood up, leaning on each other for help as their legs suddenly seemed to have forgotten what they were made for. Giggling and clinging on to each other, they made their way out of Malcolm's quarters and through the ship to the mess hall.

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Please review - thanks ) 


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